


Things Fall Apart

by A_Big_Old_Skeleton



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: F/F, I mean come on what the fuck did you think this was going to be, It's basically an inevitability at this point, There was no way I could stop myself from this shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-21 09:13:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17040953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Big_Old_Skeleton/pseuds/A_Big_Old_Skeleton
Summary: Adora and Catra's fights have become routine, but Adora isn't sure how much longer she can keep this up. Catra, though, is pretty sure she can do this forever.





	Things Fall Apart

In hindsight, Catra thinks with a sort of panic as she feels her world collapse around her, they’d started to fall into a routine. It had become understood, for example, that her function was to be chased by She-Ra in order to give the Horde’s armies room to work, and it was Adora’s job, likewise, to chase Catra and prevent her from doing anything that would cause the Rebellion serious issues. At some point, some of the other members of the Princess Alliance would usually show up and Catra would be forced to sound the retreat - except, of course, for the times where they didn’t show up and it was Adora pulling her people out. Adora would pull that stupid fucking sword out, Catra would use her electric staff, and, to hear the grunts tell it, the ground would shake with the ferocity of their combat. In the year since the battle of Brightmoon, Catra has broken three ribs, while Adora has, by Catra’s count, broken a nose, arm, rib(s?), and ankle. She-Ra grants her some kind of accelerated healing though, so unlike Catra who was put out of commision for weeks at a time, Adora would generally bounce back within a week - if that.

This time around, Adora had been her usual infuriatingly heroic self just like always, at least as far as Catra had been able to tell. The two threw each other recklessly at one another, each seeking an advantage which they could never quite get, somehow. Catra snarled and poured all her resentment and rage into every attack, while Adora drew on… whatever it was she drew on to fight. Catra wasn’t sure, and she very resolutely didn’t care. She’d had another year’s worth of Horde training, been resolutely quenching whatever flickers of pity or friendship she felt for Adora, was determined, every time they fought, to prove she was better than her betrayer of a friend.

They’d just had a particularly fierce exchange - some part of Catra was bleeding, she thought, but she wasn’t entirely sure. Adora - no, not Adora, She-Ra - was breathing heavily, one hand clutching a wound on her side, the other resolutely holding her sword in a defensive stance. The two circled each other carefully, and then something in She-Ra’s eyes seemed to flicker and fade. The sword tip dipped ever so slightly, and Catra, well, Catra was positive it was a feint, so she refused to charge in.

After a moment, She-Ra spoke. “What are we doing, Catra?”

Catra crouched low, still circling.  _ Ah _ , she thought,  _ so this is what we’re doing now _ . “Another recruitment speech, Princess? I’ve told you already, I’m not going to come sit at your side like a loyal pet.” This last word was spat with such a ferocity that Catra thought for a moment She-Ra would charge her in response, but she didn’t. Instead, her eyes just looked sad.

“I suppose I’m fated to never get you to believe me when I say that’s never been what I’ve wanted. It’s never been about you being my pet, or my sidekick. You’re my  _ friend _ , Catra. I miss you. I hate what the Horde’s done to you - what they’re still doing to you.” She sighed, but also didn’t drop her guard. “I’m  _ tired of fighting _ . I’m tired of fighting someone I love over something she doesn’t even believe in.”

It was not the first time Catra had heard Adora admit her feelings aloud, but it was the first time that She-Ra had said something like that. As far as Catra - or more specifically, Entrapta - could tell, She-Ra was a sort of magical program. Adora wasn’t She-Ra, she just played hostess to the program when she transformed. A few lost histories suggested that She-Ra was something of an avatar, and tended to subsume the host’s personality entirely in the end - although Adora certainly seemed to be bucking that trend.

Catra, unwilling to allow herself to get drawn into having to confront her own maddeningly persistent feelings again, sneered. “Usually you wait until after I’ve got you on the ropes to try to convert me. This is just pathetic.” 

“I’m not trying to convert you. I’m just…” She-Ra’s voice trailed off and she ran her free hand through her hair in frustration, leaving a streak of blood that she didn’t seem to notice. “I’m sick of this. I can’t keep fighting you. I don’t want to keep fighting you. I don’t want to keep fighting  _ anything _ .”

“So surrender.” Catra said, still sneering. “Put your sword down, drop the She-Ra thing, and admit I’ve bested you. I’m sure Lord Hordak would  _ love  _ to see you in chains.”

She-Ra’s laugh carried a bitterness that unsettled Catra. “You think I haven’t considered it, Catra? If it meant I didn’t have to fight you anymore? If it meant that I could see you without one of us trying to kill the other? You don’t think that I haven’t weighed the cost of abandoning the rebellion to be with you and thought  _ maybe _ it’s worth it? But I can’t. This fight…” she gestured to the battlefield around her, to the laser fire streaking through the air, the explosions ripping through the sky, the cries of the wounded and dying drifting on the wind, “it’s so much bigger than you and me. I want  _ you _ , Catra, I want to be with you and help you and make up for abandoning you even if it takes the rest of my life, but I can’t let the Horde run roughshod over everything. I’ve seen too many atrocities to let that happen. Too many people would be hurt if I did. I love you more than anything, Catra, and I always will, but I can’t…”

Catra cut her off before she could continue. “You think the Horde would survive without me? You think people wouldn't get hurt by your precious princesses? You think I haven’t lost comrades to this  _ stupid  _ fucking war? Hell, you think your people would welcome me? I’d be dead before I got five feet past the gates.”

She-Ra’s form flickered, sputtered, and went out. It was just Adora now, and the sword pointed at the ground. “I know,” she said, and the sadness in her voice is almost too much for Catra to bear. “We’re in too deep, aren’t we?”

Catra took a moment, still on guard, and was on the verge of a cutting retort when suddenly Adora’s shouted something and in a rush Catra was knocked down and Adora landed on her heavily with a cry. Catra’s head was ringing and she thought she must have a concussion, so it took a moment to realize that the warm stickiness spreading on her uniform wasn't from the wound she’d given Adora earlier, it was from an arrow lodged squarely in Adora’s - not She-Ra’s - chest, where she’d taken the shot meant for Catra. 

Something in Catra breaks, at that moment. The urge to defeat her one-time friend leaves her, and she’s no longer Hordak’s Right Hand, the one who will rid the Horde of She-Ra once and for all and claim bloody vengeance for Adora’s betrayal. She’s just Catra, the sad, lonely girl who’d lost the woman she loved with such fierceness that she would have destroyed the world if it meant keeping her safe. Who carries a deep and aching sadness in her chest that she can’t ever quite manage to shake, who knows damn well she’s on the wrong side but who feels trapped into a role because the idea that someone could ever love her the way Adora says she does seems impossible, too big to fathom.

She isn’t even sure the noises coming out of her mouth are words - and to be fair, they aren’t. It’s a series of strangled cries that morph into a howl, and then it’s just Catra cradling Adora, frantically trying to staunch the wound, swearing up and down to whatever goddesses happen to be nearby that if they stop this, if they keep her alive, that’ll be it, Catra will rip Hordak’s heart out with her own hands if that’s what it takes.

Adora coughs, and there’s a pink foam that freezes Catra’s blood with dread. Her eyes flutter open and stare up at Catra, but seem like they’re having trouble focusing. Adora looks around, then looks down at her own chest and makes a small noise that sounds like “oh.”

“Oh,” Adora says, as if she’s discussing the weather, “I guess that was a bad idea.” She grimaces and coughs again, and Catra feels herself beginning to panic. “Yeah, I’ve had better plans.”

“J-just don’t talk, okay? Focus on breathing for me. C-can you do that?” Catra is trying so hard to keep it together, to remember what she’s learned from the medics in the Horde, to keep Adora alive so she can… what? Bring her in? The Horde would rather Adora bleed out here on the battlefield. The rebellion, then? Catra looks around the battlefield frantically, but a haze seems to be over her sight and in her panic she can’t actually tell who is fighting for whom. “You are not allowed,” she says, through gritted teeth, “You are  _ not a-fucking-llowed _ to die for me, Adora. I’m not worth it, understand? I don’t deserve anyone rescuing me.  _ You’re supposed to let me fall _ .”

Adora snorts, like she’s just heard something funny. “You’re wrong, Catra. You are worth… so much more than you know. Y-you can do so much good for people, if you’ll just… try.”

Her eyes flutter closed, then, and Catra really starts babbling now. “Adora no, you can’t, I love you godsdammit, I’ve loved you forever, I don’t want to lose you, I can’t fucking _lose_ _you_ , Adora don’t leave me again, don’t break your promise, don’t… it’s you and me until the end, Adora, don’t you remember? Adora?” A broken sob escapes her, then, and she bows her head over her friend’s body and the tears won’t stop falling but at some point, Adora’s eyes flicker open again.

“C-catra,” she says, and looks over where her sword is laying in the dirt. “T..the sword. Can you.. Can you bring it to me?”

Catra numbly reaches over, unwilling to let go of Adora, and manages to grab the blade, cutting her hand in the process. She drags it across the ground and hands it over without a second thought.

Adora’s breath hitches again, and there’s a bubbling, rasping noise as she grips the sword hilt. “Help me hold on to the hilt, Catra. I’m not… I’m not feeling so strong at the moment.” 

For a second, Catra thinks that Adora’s about to try foisting the blade off on her. It would be very Adora-like, in her aggravating way, to sacrifice herself and then get Catra to become the replacement hero in her stead. Instead, as Catra and Adora both grip the hilt, Adora with a failing grip and Catra, Catra holding on to both it and Adora’s hands like they’re the only thing she has left in the universe, Adora manages to rasp out, “For the honor… of Grayskull.”

Nothing happens, and continues to not happen until Catra, thinking that it’s really happened, that Adora’s gone and it’s  _ her fault _ , has a sudden thought that princess magic crap is all about true love and friendship or whatever, and so without pausing too long to think - more accurately, without thinking at all - she kisses Adora at the precise moment the sword’s power sputters back to life, and there’s an explosion of white light. Catra is blinded by the flash for several moments, during which she can feel Adora’s body  _ shifting _ , growing to She-Ra’s height and build, and all she can think is  _ if she just turns into a dead version of She-Ra I’m going to fucking kill her _ .

The lightshow fades. She-Ra’s eyes open, and stare up at Catra with such a burning intensity of emotion that Catra almost falls backwards with the force of it. Instead, she manages a choked, “Hey, Adora.”

She-Ra laughs, then immediately winces because she’s still got a fairly nasty chest wound. “I can’t believe…” she says, and then coughs, wincing again (but, Catra notices with relief, there’s no pink foam this time). “I can’t believe you kissed me when I was losing consciousness.”

Catra blushes, and finds herself unable to think of a suitably witty comeback because she’s too busy trying not to cry with happiness at her friend being back and alive and… now She-Ra’s pulled her down roughly and is kissing her as if kissing would somehow make her wound heal faster. Which, for all Catra knows, it might - although she’s not sure she gives a shit about that, not really. 

After what feels like both too long and  _ definitely _ not long enough, the two break apart. Catra, for the first time in her life, feels incredibly shy and doesn’t actually bother to hide it. “So uh,” she says hesitantly, “about this whole…thing?”

“That’s a problem for future Catra and Adora,” She-Ra - no, this time it’s definitely Adora - says, and pulls Catra into another kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Nothing like almost having your friend die to make you suddenly realize you've been an idiot the whole time, I always say.
> 
> In retrospect, this could probably be longer, but uh... brevity is the soul of wit? Yeah, let's go with that.
> 
> EDIT: Holy shit this is easily the most popular thing I've done on this site. Thanks for reading and giving kudos and saying nice things to me, it feeds my bottomless ego.


End file.
